The Typical Life
by hanns
Summary: Harry wondered if people would care as much as they did now if his luck ran out that night he survived Voldemort. That kind of typical life seemed so foreign to him. But he craved it more than anything.
1. The Beginning

Claire James was beautiful. But she never let it show. 

Perhaps that was better than flaunting it. Harry didn't care. He would never hear her story. What she was like. The soul behind her piercing, big and beautiful blue eyes, her long black hair, and bee-stung lips. This description Harry described in his mind sounded a little bit creepy to him, no matter how he phrased it. All he knew was that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

She must have felt his stare on her, with her eyes intensely focused on her Potions paper, her shiny black hair tucked behind the ear nearest Harry, biting her quill in thought. Probably a sugar quill. Harry felt a shiver down his spine when their eyes locked, as he always did. He used to just look away quickly, embarrassed and feeling stupid for staring. But this time, a smile crept across his lips. Small, but visible. To his amazement, she smiled back. It was the first time he'd seen her smile.

And that was it. That one small moment.

It was September 7th and Harry's sixth year so far seemed to be very demanding with homework. Nothing strange had happened so far, but he was sure something would come up. Something always did. He almost missed the drama. It was actually quite boring with nothing to focus on... except homework. As stared at the fire, the world around him seemed to fade and he became lost in his thoughts once again.

Ron and Hermione bickered as usual. Now that their positions of prefects had been passed down to the new fifth years, Harry had to listen to this more than usual. If only they could cross the line from hate to love, then Harry's headaches might disappear, with their lips smacked together instead of pointlessly squabbling.

As for Harry's love, he didn't know. He wasn't all that interested in it anymore. Even if he did get together with someone, he didn't care to put someone through the drama he faced every year. It just wasn't fair for them.

Now that Voldemort was back in full power, Harry felt more and more trapped. He couldn't go to the bathroom without a teacher insisting he bring a friend along. It seemed pointless, since Dumbledore was still Headmaster. But Harry knew he should be grateful for having people who cared so much about him. He's the boy who lived. The boy who saved them all from the murderous, evil Voldemort.

Harry wondered if people would care as much as they did now if his luck ran out that night he survived Voldemort. That kind of typical life seemed so foreign to him. He craved it more than anything. Sometimes he wished his mother never saved him, so he would never have had to deal with Voldemort and he could be with his parents. Sure it seemed selfish of him, since so many people would be dead if he stayed powerful for those fifteen years. But why did it have to be him to be The Boy Who Lived? Why couldn't it be someone else? He couldn't be the best person for the title.

As Harry thought of these things, the time seemed to fly by faster than he would have liked. He didn't feel like starting his second week at Hogwarts already. He was still living in the summer. It was eight o'clock on a Sunday night when Harry drifted off to sleep on that big, comfy couch in front of the fire. And the truth was, he never wanted to wake up.

A/N: I know, I know, very short chapter. It's just the prologue, though. What about Claire, that mysterious girl I put in there? Too perfect? Too strange? Too random? _Tell me_. I was going to make this chapter primarily on Claire, but I changed my mind as I began to get into the flow of writing. I'm having a very big trouble on staying awake at the moment, so this chapter may be crap. I'm also only fourteen.


	2. Seating Changes

"Harry! Wake up!" 

It was seven-thirty when Harry finally realized he had fallen asleep on the couch. He was completely stretched out on it, with his left hand and foot hanging off one side and his other hand and foot hanging off the back side of the couch, so he looked like some kind of lop-sided star.

He jumped to a sitting position, embarrassed, and rubbed his eyes, which only really irritated them.  
Hermione was standing at the back of this couch, looking down at him with raised eyebrows.  
He didn't feel like explaining himself to Hermione, since all she would do is ignore him and lecture him about sleeping properly, and making sure it was in an appropriate spot.

It took him only ten minutes to be ready for breakfast, but he slowed down his pace to a nonchalant stroll, because everyone was still probably asleep at a time like that. It took him another ten minutes just to walk to the Great Hall.

When he entered for breakfast, he noticed that there only seemed to be about fifteen Gryffindors. There was a few Slytherins, a big, annoying cheerful group of Hufflepuffs, and about twenty Ravenclaws, who all seemed to be spread out in different spots. He took a seat next to Hermione, who was sitting across from Neville, Seamus and Dean. Ron seemed to still be sleeping.

When you sleep for eleven and a half hours like Harry did, food seems to be more tempting than usual. So he took the Weasley-size breakfast. Seven bacon strips, scrambled eggs and four pieces of french toast (A/N: I'm very hungry, you know!). He was just about to "dig in" when he looked up and saw his four friends staring at him.

"What?" Harry asked, but all they did was stare, "I'm hungry."

When he finished his meal, he sat back and talked to Ron, who joined him halfway through his breakfast. Ron began to go on about Quidditch and how he practiced some of his own keeper moves, so Harry found this an opportunity to gaze off into space. His eyes trailed off to Ron's little sister, Ginny, who looked as pretty as ever. She was talking to a group of girls, who all seemed very interested in what she had to say. His eyes left her as he trailed down the table to the curiously mysterious girl, Claire James. She was reading a book, and as Harry squinted he could see the title: _Othello_. That was a Shakespearian play; a tragedy. Her hair was tied up in a low sideways ponytail–which rarely ever happened–and was flung over her shoulder. Some of it even seemed crimped.

"Harry?" He snapped back to attention and looked at Ron.

He stared at Harry strangely.

"Were you just ogling my sister?" he asked. He didn't seem mad, which was odd, because Ron was always mad about anything to do with a guy being with his sister.

Harry thought for a moment.

"I was. Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Ron said, smiling, "If anyone had to go out with Ginny, I'd want him to be you."

"Uh.. Thanks," Harry said, and at that, the bell rang for first classes to start. Potions.

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual spots, the back corner, but what they didn't know was that they wouldn't be there for long anymore.

Snape was at the front of the classroom with a smirk on his face that, to Harry, Ron and Hermione, meant something terrible for them.

"I see you all have taken your seats," he started, "But I'm afriad you're going to have to move. You know, make new friends."

Harry knew from the evil look on his face that this was just another way to make his school year worse.

Snape pointed his wand at a piece of paper he was holding, tapped it while muttering something, and tapped the board. In large chalk writing that covered the whole board was the new seating plan.

Harry, Ron and Hermione groaned simultaneously. Harry saw, with no real shock at all, that he was planted in the middle of the classroom, surrounded by Slytherins. Malfoy's gang, or what he called friends. Hermione was in the same spot she'd been in for five years, but behind two very tall Slytherins, so her hand was barely visible when she wanted to answer a question. And Ron was in the other corner, but in the front row. He was separated from all the other Gryffindors by a row of Slytherins behind him. And who was his new Potions partner? Claire James, of course.

When Harry took his seat, it didn't take long to look up at the board and see that the name Ron Weasley and Claire James were right beside each other. A pang of unexpected jealously hit him, and he got mad at himself for it. But it just wasn't fair that Ron got to have a nice Potions partner and he was stuck with Millicent Bulstrode. Hermione wasn't set with someone that great either. Neville Longbottom. But at least she had a friend.

As soon as everyone got settled into their seats, Snape began to write the instructions for a simple hair dying potion.

"I think we should make our hair go bright pink!" Millicent exclaimed, which really shocked Harry.

"Actually, I was thinking-"  
"You wanna go there?" Millicent threatened, grabbing his jaw.

"Pink's fine," Harry reassured her and tried to control his breathing.

This was going to be a long year.

When Snape began to hand out their required ingredients, Harry's attention fell on Ron and Claire. Ron seemed quite happy with having someone so smart and beautiful as his partner, but he was having difficulty getting her to talk. The sensitivity level on Ron also didn't help much.

"Are you deaf or mute or something?" Ron asked.

All Claire did was give him a strange look.

"Oh," Ron nodded, "So you're deaf."

And then it happened.

"I'm not deaf _or_ mute," Claire said, "I'd just rather not speak."

Ron's eyes widened in amazement as if he really just found out she was god. Harry was amazed too, but he quickly looked away. But it didn't mean that his ears weren't usable.

"Why the hell did you never speak?" Was Harry's first out of the millions of questions he wanted to ask her. Unfortunately, Ron got there first.

"I told you. I didn't feel like it. Why is it such a big deal?"

"I don't know... It's just weird. Like you don't want friends or anyone to know you.. Or you're just scared you'll get hurt."

"What? Of course not. You don't know me!" her defense went up like a bullet.

"Well.. What, then?"

"I'm just sky, okay?"

Silence.

More silence.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

A sigh from Claire.

"I know! Why don't you be my friend?"

The longest silence and most painful silence Harry ever felt between two people, except the pain was for him.

"Fine."

Harry sat with Ron in the library that night after dinner. They were innocently doing homework when Harry couldn't hold the question in any longer.

"What's Claire James like?" Harry asked. It didn't come out the way he would have liked. He tried to sound casual, but he just sounded creepily interested and anxious.

"She's nice. Why?" Ron raised one eyebrow. He was an expert at it.

"Why?" Harry repeated, "What do you think? She's the quietest person in Hogwarts."

"You don't know that," Ron countered, "There could be some people who linger in the shadows and wear hooded cloaks to shadow their faces."

Ron would never grow out of his stupidity.

"She is pretty, though," Ron said.

No, she was beautiful.

"I like her eyes," he went on with a glaze over his eyes, "They're all... big. But she needs to learn how to stop them from looking scared and neurotic."

Harry was very annoyed by this. Her eyes were intense, not neurotic. There's nothing wrong with having depth in her eyes.

"So do you like her, then?" Harry asked.

Ron thought about this for a moment, which annoyed Harry as well.

"Yeah, I think I do."

A/N: How's that for length? I hope it's long. Anyways, PLEASE review! I'm desperate for reviews.


End file.
